


Crash. Bang. Smoke.

by orphan_account



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Car Accidents, Hospitals, M/M, brendon taking care of ryan
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-10 15:17:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7850125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Ryan accidentally runs into Brendon at a Bar, all he wants to do is leave, but running into the streets in the middle of the night probably wasn't the best idea.</p><p>(Tittle from Throam, which is awesome by the way, so go read it)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> These Characters are fictional, though they are based of real people, the events in this fic are fictional, and purely fiction, and I do not own the band Panic! at the disco.
> 
> That being said I am a huge fan, and I'm new writer, so please no hate just for purely hate, but I'd love to know what you guys think, so all criticism is appreciated.

When I thought about my future, I'd never even imagined that it would be like this. The heartaches I feel every single time I hear one of his goddamn songs, the pain at seeing him on magazines, and the loneliness at nights. Back when we were first starting out I thought nothing could go wrong! This band, him, my friends, we were headed somewhere, and sure, we had ups and downs, Brent leaving, scraping an entire album, and our fair share of fights, but we always made up, Jon replaced Brent (and was even better) and we came out with an awesome 70's feel album. Pretty; odd. It was perfect, and then we went on tour, and we sang, and danced, and even filmed it in Chicago!

But it couldn't stay all lala for long. Soon shit hit the fan, fights became longer, our “creative differences” drove us apart, and a few days later we announced it. Jon and I were out of Panic! for good. I did my own little thing for a while, but it never amounted to much, not like Panic! had. Meanwhile Spencer and Brendon continued on, made a new album, toured, and then Spencer left, and Brendon was all alone. This band that Spence and I had started, invited Brent along, who then invited Brendon, was left to him, and even though it hurt, I couldn't have picked a better person to do it. He flourished under the spot light, came out with two new albums alone, and then headed on tour. His audience grew, everyone loved him, and I missed him. But I couldn't tell him that.

So I went on with life, ignoring him, and his fame, and just trying to concentrate on the path ahead of me, and it worked, for a while, but nothing really lasts for long.

 


	2. I Fucking Hate Tuesdays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It begins!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's chapter 2! I already did disclaimers so I'm not going to again, but yeah. Hope y'all enjoy!

It happened on a Tuesday. Which is weird, cause nothing every really goes wrong on Tuesdays, not for me at least. I was just sitting at home, like I always do, fiddling with the radio station. It had been a pretty good day, a do nothing kind of day, I had just lazed around goofing off with my guitar. But when all of a sudden Victorious started playing my mood got a lot worse. I turned off the radio, cursing whatever station had decided it was a good time to play that song. Staring up at the ceiling, I did my best not to think about him. Don't think about Brendon Urie. Don't think about Brendon Urie. Do not think about Brendon fucking Urie. But his name was already swirling round inside my head, his pretty eyes, his perfect smile, that asshole. Why did he have to ruin such a good day. I knew I wasn't going to be able to let go of this, so I sighed, grabbed my jacket, and walked out the front door.

Halfway down the street I realized I hadn't check to see if I had my keys. Quickly my hands searched every pocket I had and.. nothing. Fuck. I did manage to remember my phone, I notice, as I pulled it out checking the time. 7:59. Almost 8. My favourite bar should be open by now. I had discovered it on one of my first nights here when I needed to clear my head, and decided to drown my sorrows in beer. Ever since then I somehow manage to keep coming back to this place. It's like an unknown force draws me here, I don't know why. I push open the doors to the bar, and walk towards the back, sitting down on the second bar stool to the left. My bar stool.

“The usual again, Ryan?” asks the bartender. I don't know how he knows my name, but I don't know his.

“Yeah.. Thanks” I hate how I have a usual. I promised myself I would never come to this, but I guess nothing really lasts forever now does it. The bartender slides over a drink, I don't even remember what's in it anymore. I down it, quickly as I can, and suddenly another appears before me. I smile at him, the fake kind of smile that no one acknowledges, and ask him how much it's gonna cost. The doors fall open and the bartender frowns.

“On the house.” He mumbles as he goes to clean some of the glasses. Weird. Suddenly I realize I recognize that voice...

“ Anyways so then Dallon was all like..” It couldn't be. No fucking way. I refuse to believe this. “Is that... Ryan? Hey! Ryan!” Shit. I turn around, taking in Brendon Urie's glory.

“Hey Brendon..” My voice manages not to break, and I applaud myself for not acting like a complete and utter fool.

“Ryan man! How's it been!” He says, as he comes to sit next to me. I can smell alcohol on his breath, he must have already gotten drunk.

“Fine, fine, look I really should be going, nice running into you and all..” Get out, get out, get out. I stand up and make my way to the door, but he follows me.

“Really Ryan? It's not even 8:30! Sit, have a beer, let's catch up!” I push my way through the door, and he's still following me. Leave me alone for gods sake.

“I'd love to, really, but I got to go, things to do, places to be...” I trail off as I make my way onto the street, as quickly as I can.

“Ryan.. Ryan wait. RYAN! LOOK OUT!” Brendon suddenly shouts, and I turn around to see headlights. Shit. I fucking hate Tuesdays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! (The bartender was so a closet fan) I'm going to go drown in my tears caused by the fact I'll never see Brendon and Ryan play a show together again....  
> \- xoxo KS

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, sorry it's so short, I'm hoping to have a new chapter up in a week or so, but no promises.  
> xoxo -KS


End file.
